


first christmas

by athena3062



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5427665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena3062/pseuds/athena3062
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a quiet month in Storybrooke, the town celebrates Christmas. Set between 4a and 4b.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first christmas

Emma stuck her hand into the tree, depositing the delicate glass ball on the nearest branch. Her hands were already scratched from unpacking the artificial tree and stringing the lights. The temperature in the loft had been climbing steadily throughout the morning. Snow had put them to work early, turning on all the lights and starting the christmas music nearly as soon as the sun rose. Emma knew she was being childish (her brother woke them up around 4am nearly every day) but it was her day off. Killian had knocked on the door ten minutes past seven, carrying doughnuts and a canvas sack from Granny that Snow had hidden in her bedroom closet. 

The tree was tucked in a corner opposite the bathroom, a location that had taken ten minutes longer to settle on than Emma would have liked. Her back was already beginning to twinge from hauling boxes out of storage and up the steps to the loft. 

The loft was never designed for this many people. There were too few doors and not enough walls. And she’s too old to be sneaking in the front door, stepping over the creaky floorboard in an effort not to wake up her parents. 

“Here Mom.” Henry passed Emma an ornament over her shoulder. She wrapped her fingers around the twine, glad it wasn’t another glass figure. This one was either a fox or a squirrel. She couldn’t distinguish between one ornament and another. It was a mess of glitter and bark and sharp edges that jabbed at her skin.

She stuck it onto the branch closest to her nose. Before she could step back, Henry had another ornament ready. Emma glanced sideways and saw the collection of ornaments draped over the curve of Killian’s hook. “Really?” she asked, tilting her head at the sight. “Don’t let my mother see that.”

“See what?” Snow joined the conversation mid-stream, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate in her hands. Baby Neal was strapped to her chest in a complicated harness that made Emma wince just looking at it. 

“Nothing,” Henry answered, an ornament in each hand. He bent down to the lower limbs, carefully arranging a star and a polar bear on the branches. 

Snow passed a mug to Emma. If her mother got out a canister of fake snow, Emma was going to make a call to the Sheriff’s emergency line herself, just to escape the apartment. David might be on call but she was close to climbing out the window. 

“Oh Emma honey those are too close together.” Snow gestured with her free hand at the top section of the tree. “Henry can you move those around?”

He sprung into action, arms reaching the top branches easily. Emma blew on her hot chocolate, watching the marshmallows evaporate. Soon he was going to be taller than her (and probably Killian). Maybe he’d remain shorter than David but it didn’t seem likely. 

Snow stared at the tree, one hand on her hip. “David I think it’s still crooked,” she said. 

“No it isn’t.” David’s voice came from the loft, lights draped around his neck and across his chest, as he secured them to the railing. “Stand back here and you’ll see.”

“Fine,” Snow replied, surveying the rest of her tree, her tone skeptical. “Killian you’re doing a wonderful job,” she praised. 

Killian placed the silver icicle on the tree and shuffled backwards, eyes on his handiwork. “Merely following orders your Majesty.”

“I’ve told you to call me Snow,” she replied, cheeks pinking slightly.

“Or Mary Margaret.” Henry joined the conversation from behind the tree. 

Emma lowered herself onto the sofa, mug in hand. Her mother was right, she had clumped the ornaments too close together. She used to think there was some switch that would flip, moving her from just Emma to Emma the adult. That Emma would know how to do things like decorate a tree properly or make a turkey or untangle christmas lights without swearing or tying intricate knots. This Emma was in the way. 

She wanted to love the strings of lights and the way Henry’s eyes practically sparkled as they unpacked more and more decorations, but she felt unsettled. Decorating seemed like a waste of time. She had fake memories from living in New York with Henry and decorating a tree, but it was a fake prelit tree covered with a mishmash of ornaments. Nothing like the lace and glitter wonderland that her mother was assembling. Every surface was adorned with holiday touches. Snowflakes, reindeer, twinkle lights and ribbon covered the first floor. Emma was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by the amount of sparkle. 

The gray and white ‘normal’ towels had been boxed up in favor of plush dark green towels with silver embroidery. Every flat surface had been dusted and cleaned of clutter, so they could unpack trees made of ornaments, silver reindeer and glitter-covered pinecones. Lace doilies were hung in the windows and fake evergreen garland dotted with red berries was strung along the railing on the second level. A pile of cookie cutters were waiting to be washed on the center island, beside a complete collection of holiday mugs and plates.

The Nutcracker soundtrack spinning on the record player took on a sinister tone. It was too much. Everything felt forced. It wasn’t really Christmas, just a mutually agreed upon spectacle ten days away, organized by her mother in her last act as Mayor. Nothing felt real anymore. 

David swore loudly and Emma looked up. Her father had barricaded himself at the top of the staircase. The steps were covered with lengths of garland and florist wire and empty bags. She was about to ask what was wrong when she noticed that the lights in David’s hands were rapidly blinking. 

Emma placed her hot chocolate on the end table, narrowly missing a reindeer with a bow around its neck. She crossed the floor carefully, socks slipping against the polished wood. The left railing was completely decorated but the right side was still bare. There was no way Snow was going to have lopsided decorations. 

“Need a hand?” she asked, glancing up at David. 

He looked over at his wife but she was directing Henry and Killian. “Yeah,” he replied, disconnecting the strand with a grimace. “Hide this.” He tossed it over the edge of the railing. 

“Are there more?” Emma asked, tossing the offending strand onto the bed. She glanced at the empty boxes around the kitchen. 

David frowned. “Snow? Do we have more lights somewhere?” 

“Umm I don’t think so. Did you check the box by the door?” Snow had moved over to the window ledge and was rearranging the figurines Emma had lined up two (almost three) hours before.

Emma felt like she was trapped in a Christmas version of the Twilight Zone, watching her mother adjust everything that Emma had done. It made her feel like a rebellious teenager. 

Instead she leaned over the box in question, reaching deep into the mound of tissue paper. “Nope. It’s empty,” she confirmed. 

“Okay. Can you head to store and get some? We need at least three boxes. Four if it looks picked over.“ Snow looked over her shoulder at Emma. 

“There’s one hardware store,” Emma retorted. “How could it not be picked over?”

“I told Tom to order extra. We’ll use them for Founder’s Day next year if there are any left.”

Emma bit back a sarcastic comment and slipped on her coat. “Call me if you need anything else,” she said, looking at Killian over Henry’s shoulder. 

Killian climbed easily over the piles of boxes. “I’ll help you Swan,” he volunteered, following Emma across the loft and missing the wordless exchange between David and Mary Margaret. 

They moved silently down the stairs, Emma concentrating on not falling head over heels.

On the sidewalk, she bent forward, hands on her thighs, trying to clear her overheated body with gulps of crisp air. 

“Are you alright love?” Killian closed the door behind his back.

Emma stood upright and reached out her left hand with a forced smile. He took it swiftly, rings pressing against her skin. 

The sun was low but most of the buildings had already switched on their holiday lights. She kept up a steady conversation as they walked, desperate to fill the silence. Emma knew it was too obvious but Killian gamely followed the conversation.

They turned right, brushing closer as a family carrying their Christmas tree passed. Apparently Anton was capable of growing most anything on short-notice. At a loss for their names, Emma just smiled as they passed. Killian, having watched far too many movies with Henry over the past two days, loudly wished them happy christmas.

The pharmacy was fully decorated, complete with a window display featuring a train and snow-topped mountains. Walter was more of a Christmas fanatic than any of the other dwarves. 

Killian gestured at the scene with his hook. “Why is there something inside the crystal ball?” 

Emma glanced down at the snow globe perched on a pile of cotton and glitter. Inside was a snowman wearing top hat.

“It’s snow globe,” she replied.

Killian shook his head. “What’s that?” 

She rocked onto her heels. “There’s water inside and when you turn it upside down the snow gets caught in the water like a snowstorm. There are all different sizes. Like big ones you need both hands to shake.” 

He frowned. “What do you do with it?” 

“Nothing,” she replied too quickly, pushing her hair away from her face. “Some people decorate with them,” she amended.

“Ahh. Much like the candy sticks the Widow Lucas is so fond of?”

“Not really. You eat candy canes. Snow globes collect dust.”

“Ahh like your father’s nutcrackers.”

Emma nodded. David’s collection had been shoved upstairs until Snow found room for them. She had a suspicion they were going to remain boxed up unless Henry took a liking to them. 

“Yeah. Like that.”

“Do you like these snowglobes?”

Instead of answering, she continued on to the hardware store. The only snowglobe she really remembered belonged to her fifth grade teacher. It had sat on the edge of her desk all December and on the day before winter vacation, Mrs. Cooper had let everyone take a turn shaking it and watching the snow fall. 

Emma’s heart was racing. She’d tried to get into the spirit of fake Christmas but instead of festive, she felt sick. 

She stopped abruptly in front of the hardware store, staring through the ropes of multi-colored lights decorating the front window. “Do you know Tom?” Emma pointed at a man wearing a striped green and white hat. “Before the curse he was a farmer. Then the Curse hits and he owns a hardware store. He told me a few months ago that he hated farming. Hated everything about it. I think Tom is one of the only people in this whole town who liked being cursed.”

She yanked open the door before Killian could answer, jingling the bell loudly. “Hey Emma,” Tom called from behind the counter. “You need any help?”

“No thanks,” she called over her shoulder, clenching both hands in her coat pockets. “Just some lights.” 

Killian kept pace with her through the aisles, until they reached the lights. She pulled four boxes, even though the shelves were still full. 

Killian took the boxes, balancing them carefully in the crook of his left arm. “Swan, look at me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied dully.

If she turned around, Emma had a sinking feeling that she would start crying. And if she started crying, even in the middle of the hardware store, she might not be able to stop.

“Come on.” She tried to move past Killian but found her path blocked by his arm and a cardboard display of silver and red garland.

Reluctantly she turned to face Killian, her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s like a freaking Norman Rockwell painting came to life out there. And if I have to move one more glitter pinecone animal, I’m going to lose my mind.”

His hand gripped her shoulder. “Bit much, isn’t it? Whole town’s gone round the bend. The Widow Lucas keeping making trays of cookies that no one can eat.”

Emma stepped closer, not caring that they were in the middle of the hardware store listening to an awful rendition of Jingle Bells over the speakers. “I’m better at monsters,” she admitted. 

He chuckled softly. “Don’t I know it.” Killian offered his arm, “come on love. I have an idea.”

“What about the lights?“ She gestured at the boxes. 

“I know,” he replied, “come on. Let’s not deprive Tom of the joy of capitalism.”

“You need to stop watching tv with my kid.” Emma couldn’t stop the smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. Henry was determined to binge-watch every series on netflix with Killian. Not that Emma was complaining. 

Ten minutes later she also wasn’t complaining about the view of Main Street from the clocktower. Above the chaos, with him at her side, Emma had to admit that Storybrooke at its decorated best was breath-taking. And even though she wouldn’t tell him, Killian did know how to find the best places in town.

///

She knocked a second time on his door, hiding a gift bag behind her back. When Killian answered, feet bare and plaid shirt half-buttoned, Emma didn’t bother with a greeting. 

“Here,” she blurted out, pushing the bag into his hand, turning on her toes.

He looked at the navy tissue paper but didn’t take the gift. “I thought tomorrow was the day for exchanging gifts.”

Emma flushed. “It is. I just…” Embarrassed, she trailed off without finishing the sentence. She’d already invited him to dinner with her parents and Henry tomorrow, but after she dropped Henry at Regina’s house, Emma needed to see Killian. 

“Some people open one present on Christmas Eve.” She stepped into the room, twisting the bag handles between her fingers. The door sounded louder than thunder when it closed. 

“I see,” he answered, accepting the gift with a grin. He sank down onto the bed, the bag in his hand. Emma perched across from him, one hand twisting the hem of her sweater. Killian pulled out the wrapped present, slipping his hook beneath the corner Emma had secured with far too much tape. He pulled the paper away to reveal a leather-covered book.

“They’re maps of this land,” Emma supplied uselessly, suddenly unsure about the gift. She should have gotten him something else. Something he could use. Or a scarf. Anything else. 

He looked up with a wide smile. “Thank you love.”

Emma let out the breath she’d been holding. “You’re welcome.” 

He stood up quickly and carried the book over to the desk. She watched him move easily around the small space. 

“Close your eyes.”

Emma glared at him. “Why?”

“Because I have a gift for you,” he replied. “Now close your eyes.”

Emma rolled her eyes but complied, sticking out her tongue for good measure. She kept her eyes closed even after Killian placed something on the mattress and sat down, his knee brushing her bent leg.

“Alright. Go on,” he urged.

Emma opened her eyes. A large red box sat on the bed, wrapped with a gold bow. She untied the ribbon and lifted off the lid with trembling fingers. She glanced up at Killian. His grin stretched from ear-to-ear and she couldn’t help but smile back.

She pushed aside the paper and lifted a heavy snowglobe from the wrapping. Emma couldn’t form words. She cradled the snow globe with both hands and met his eyes with a watery smile (she wasn’t crying but was damn close). 

“It’s your New York.” 

“I know,” she replied softly, turning it upside down and watching the snow fall over Central Park. 

“Do you like it?” His voice dropped and Emma realized she wasn’t the only one stumbling through the motions of Christmas. 

Warmth spread through her body, tendrils of magic casting a golden glow over the miniature scene. She nodded, leaning forward to place the snow globe on the side table, one hand braced on his thigh. “It’s perfect.”

Only later, after he’d unwrapped his second present and they left his room, did Emma notice that Granny had nailed mistletoe over every doorway.


End file.
